“A revolutionary, intergenerational decolonisation of Tamil culture and history”
How do you explain if you’ve never been taught the words, if you don’t even know they exist in your language? Non-binary Tamil teenager, Krish, knows who they are, but will it all translate? Writer Gayathiri Kamalakanthan’s personal exploration of period parties as a queer, Tamil person is beautiful, revolutionary and joyful. First presented by Kali Theatre as a short play in 2022, this 1-hour 25-minute iteration is a triumph of heart, education, cultural appreciation and intersectionality.
We meet Krish (Elizabeth Green) and Brenavee (Tanvi Virmani) in the school toilets, discussing Krish’s first period and the unnecessarily complicated process of inserting tampons. The openness with which these teenage friends explore the contradictions of a samathiya veedu (period party) is vulnerable and unflinching. Whilst period parties are a cultural celebration, they are also gendered and lack discussion of actually bleeding. For Krish, it feels like a trap
Virmani and Green’s chemistry is really thoughtfully built. Their teenage characters are so believable, from language and mannerisms to costuming (Eve Oakley), down to the thumb hole ripped into Krish’s school jumper. Virmani plays Brenavee’s no-nonsense, loving acceptance of her friend beautifully. Moments like Brenavee casually handing over a binder she’s bought Krish are such powerful positive affirmations to behold; it’s normal, it should be normal. Green’s portrayal of Krish’s growth as they gain power through knowledge is excellent. Their physicality and energy is always changing and moving, reacting so relatably to the world seemingly not built for them, desparate to be seen for who they are.
Rani Moorthy’s performance as Brintha, Krish’s Amma (mother), demonstrates so much depth and dimension. Despite Krish’s story arc being at the forefront of this story, Brintha and Brenavee have fully realised wants and needs that audiences can relate to and care about. Importantly, no character is perfect or painted as the villain. It is so refreshing to experience three people sharing love, food, culture and eventually, their truths.
Lighting (Jahmiko Marshal), costume and music (Marshall/ Niroshini Thambar) combine to create the gravity and ceremony of the period party. It feels intimate, layered and threatening, as Krish resists the implications of the sari and the makeup, pressure building to accept what is expected of them. Green often speaks directly to the audience, effortlessly drawing us into their determination and self-assurance. Period Parrty is punctuated with frequent audience reactions: gasps, shouts of laughter and sounds of joy. This is particularly evident during the period party preparations and ceremony, as Moorthy’s expertly subtle interactions with, us let us now we are party guests. The thrust staging really lends itself to including the audience and Gitika Buttoo’s staging ensures there is always a new angle to experience the story.
The cast of Period Parrrty is completed by the recordings Krish collects. The beginnings of an oral Tamil history, that includes Queerness. The combination of dramaturgy (Pooja Sivaraman) and personal experience creates an immersive education experience. The audience leaves wiser, knowing Tamil words like இருமையின்மை (non-binary, pronounced irumaiyinmai) and குயர் (queer, pronounced kuyar).
The deceptively simple set (Designer Katie Scott Set built by Centre Stage Scenery), aids in our visual learning. The navy walls begin to fill with diagrams about the Caste system, Hindu Gods, maps, 2010 icons and destroyed landmark, the Jaffna Tamil Library. When Brintha finally opens up to her child about the Tamil genocide and Sri Lanka civil war, the evidence is all around us. Moorthy’s retellings of these real atrocities are done so powerfully. As she opens up to Krish, she invites them to do the same.
Through Krish, Kamalakanthan imagines a queer-inclusive period party. One with drag artists, poets and dancers, inclusive of all identities. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of it?!Period Parrrty is a heartwarming, defiant decolonisation of tradition, stories and culture. A universal reminder to talk, learn and listen. Never assume the version of history you’re being told is the only one because every identity has roots. Owning your identity does not have to come at the expense of tradition and culture; they can intertwine and harmonise on your terms.
Period Parrrty plays at Soho Theatre until 22nd November. Tickets are available here.